Wild Heart (20 page)

Please fit.

Please fit.

I’ve chanted that in my head on repeat since the moment I woke up this morning. I’ve prayed about it, worried about, and stressed about it. Now I’ve come to the realization that it’s either gonna fit or it’s not, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it now.

“Suck in,” Row says from behind me. “Harder,” she adds when nothing happens.

I can’t suck anymore in.

She tugs and I wiggle. It’s a struggle, but the silky soft lace trails up my legs, up and over my ever-growing ass, past my hips and…success!

My dress makes it over my belly.

I want to do a little dance, throw my arms in the air and cheer, but I don’t. I’m too tired at this point.

“It fits!” we both say in unison, a sigh of relief in both our voices.

This
was the hitch.
This
was what we were all worried about. Well, Zac aside, he couldn’t care less either way.

Turning towards the mirror, I laugh at my reflection, letting my arms flop to my sides. “I’m a hillbilly cliché. I moved back to my tiny hick town, got knocked up by my high school sweetheart, and I’m pregnant on my wedding day. Now all we need is a little banjo pickin’ boy to play me down the aisle.”

Row and Holly laugh. My mom rolls her eyes, and Zac’s mom rubs my belly and says sweetly, “But you’re a pretty pregnant hillbilly bride.”

I’m a whale in white.

This is all Zac’s fault.

“You’re four months pregnant. No one can really tell.”

Now that has me rolling my eyes. Everyone
knows
. Zac made sure of that. The minute that little blue plus sign popped up he was ready to post it in the local newspaper, but then thought better of it. That would take too long to get to everyone. So he called everyone he knew, including the local town gossip, Barb Blevins, hoping she could get the word out faster.

Zac is excited, over the damn moon. I’m excited too, but nervous. Happy, but unsure. This baby wasn’t planned, that’s for sure, but it’s loved nonetheless.

“Emerson.” There’s a loud knock on the door, and Zac’s gruff voice behind it.

“Go away, Zac,” Row grumbles, trying to push the door closed on him.

“Are we doin’ the whole traditional thing?” he asks through the now cracked door, his foot in it as Row continues to shove it closed.

I laugh. Clearly we’re not doing the whole traditional thing. “I think we blew past the
traditional
thing when you knocked me up
before
the wedding,” I mutter at my reflection. “Let him in Row,” I add, turning away from the mirror.

Zac pushes his way in as all the ladies file out around him, leaving us alone.

God, he looks good.

Wearing charcoal gray slacks and a crisp white button down shirt, he looks very casual in the dressiest way.

Looking up, I find him staring, an enormous smirk on his handsome face.

“What?”

“Just thinkin’ about how I can’t wait to tear that dress off you later.”

My eyes roll involuntarily, used to his
need
. “We have a whole wedding to get through before that.”

“We can make a pit stop.” Stepping closer to me, he grabs my hand and spins me slowly. “You’re beautiful.”

“Even round?”

“Even when you’re round.”

Zac’s smiling, the sly and sneaky kind. He’s up to something.

“What?” I implore, starting to feel self-conscience.

“I got you somethin’.”

“If it’s another baby, I don’t want it right now.” Zac throws his head back and laughs deeply. It’s a sound I love more than any other. “I mean, can we at least wait a year?” I ask as I move a curl off my face.

It’s hopeless. My hair does what it wants. Zac looks like he’s thinking about my offer, but I knew his answer before I even asked the question. Watching his face from the mirror, I smile when he shakes his head.

“No.” Figured.

“We’ll see. Now, give me my present.”

Sitting down on the small chase, I watch him reach out the door and pull a familiar shaped box into the room.

Instantly my eyes start to well up with tears. “You didn’t, Zac.”

“Oh, I did.” He grins wickedly.

Inside the box is a guitar case, and inside that case is a guitar, the exact one I burnt over a year ago. My heart swells to the point of pain. It’s not normal to be this happy.

She’s a pretty piece of craftsmanship. Mahogany and engraved. It’s perfect. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you.”

Grabbing my hand, Zac pulls me up to my feet and into him. Kissing me deeply, I feel all his love he has for me.

“Now, let’s go get married, Mrs. Moore.”

“I love you, Zac.”

“Love you more, Em.”

The End.

Reader. Writer. Crazy person. Lover of all things home décor and the color black and books.

Jaci J lives on the coast in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her lovely, but crazy family. If she's not reading or writing you can find her wandering the isles of a home store or hanging out with her monster son.

She's the author of The Hell's Disciples MC series, The Sick and Twisted Love series, and Wild Heart.

You can find her on Facebook:
https://facebook.com/authorjacij
or her website: https://jacijauthor.com